


Knight's Boon

by The_Plaid_Slytherin



Category: Ancient Greek Religion & Lore, Arthurian Mythology
Genre: Crossover, Knights - Freeform, M/M, Quests
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-31
Updated: 2021-01-31
Packaged: 2021-03-18 12:27:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 875
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29118225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Plaid_Slytherin/pseuds/The_Plaid_Slytherin
Summary: Sir Edmund meets someone unexpected while on his first quest.
Relationships: Hermes (Ancient Greek Religion & Lore)/Original Male Character(s)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 6
Collections: X-Ship - The Crossover Flash Exchange





	Knight's Boon

**Author's Note:**

  * For [silveradept](https://archiveofourown.org/users/silveradept/gifts).



Sir Edmund went as far into the woods as seemed prudent and stopped. The world around him was tranquil and he felt a rising sense of peace. 

Or, at least, he imagined that was what peace felt like. 

His instructions from Sir Gawain had been quite clear: he was to ride into the forest until he found a safe clearing in which to leave his horse (done) from which he was to proceed on foot until he found a place of peace and enlightenment. 

This spot, beside an attractively babbling brook, seemed as good as any, though he did not feel enlightened yet. If he wished full admission to the order of the Round Table, though, he had better come back enlightened. He wondered how explicit their questions would be. Could he pretend enlightenment? 

He sat down—or slid and fell, rather; sitting was hard in full plate—beside a tree, and began to think. 

It was only a few moments later that his thoughts were interrupted by a foot breaking a twig. Edmund opened his eyes and stood as swiftly and efficiently as he could, drawing his sword. 

"Who goes there?" 

"I should be asking you that. This has been my patch of woods for… well, for a very long time." 

Edmund blinked at the stranger. If he hadn't known any better… well, his unnatural handsomeness with his dark curly hair and impossibly deep eyes that seemed to have something shifting within their depths might have been a clue. His manner of dress was one unseen in England in any recent century (if ever); Edmund had only ever seen it in paintings and bits of broken statues left behind by some long-ago visitors. 

The garment left very little to the imagination; in fact, Edmund's imagination was working very rapidly. 

His identity was confirmed rather solidly by his winged sandals, the helmet (also winged) at the rakish angle over one eye, and the staff upon which he was leaning, which displayed two snakes intertwined. 

"And who might you be?" he said, because to say his name aloud would have been ridiculous. 

The young man (though he was certainly not actually young, nor, probably, actually a man) yawned expressively. "Do you really not know? Father will be quite annoyed to have been forgotten, however much my sister keeps trying to tell him we have been."

"You…" Edmund found he didn't quite know how to work his mouth. "I mean, you've not been forgotten, not really?" This was not really a question but his voice rose a bit, all on its own, and so it became one. 

"The offerings have dried up," Hermes said. "No one comes to worship—that's the sort of thing you do notice. Though some of us are still occupied; my brother will always be occupied as long as there's war, and so will my uncle, come to think of it." He paused. "And then there's… well, she may as well be my sister, but she's happy as long as people are still making love." He let that hang in the air, as though gauging Edmund's reaction. 

"I suppose people will go on doing that," he said diplomatically. Not that he knew anything about that.

"And what are you up to, in my woods?"

"How are they your woods?" Edmund would not ordinarily have been so forward, but there was no escaping the question. "You're rather far from where you're meant to be, aren't you?" 

"Aren't you?" 

Edmund opened his mouth to protest that he was hardly a mile from where he'd left his horse, which had been hardly a mile from the road, which was half a day's ride from Camelot. There was no way he'd gone as far as Wales, much less… anywhere else. 

There was a glint in Hermes's eyes that was… well, it was attractive. Edmund's stomach fluttered. 

He found himself sharing everything that had come to pass so far. He told Hermes—a truly ancient _god_ who had somehow taken an interest in him when few others had. Oh, Sir Gawain had taken him under his wing as squire, had knighted him and set him upon this quest, but there had never been a particular interest, especially not of… that sort. Not that he'd wanted it from Gawain. 

"Well," Hermes said at length, "I know my heroes. I should say I'm glad to see a new one."

Edmund felt a prickling at the back of his neck that might have been his armor rubbing. "I'm not a hero." 

"I think you are. I think you're right at the beginning of a heroic story. Don't tell me I don't know when I want to give my blessing to someone." 

"You… do?"

Despite all the preparation, Edmund was very surprised to find himself kissed. As soon as he got the hang of it, though, it was really quite nice. 

Hermes's hands made short work of his armor, and it was a good thing indeed Hermes's chiton was as thin and easily removed as it was. 

Edmund wasn't sure he'd found enlightenment as such, but he was rather satisfied indeed. And if this was not a good enough story to bring back to Camelot, Hermes could surely assist in arranging something.


End file.
